Elder Isles - Madouc Part 32

"They were fascinating, if vile," said Shimrod.

"I did not find them so. The colors were of great variety, and the scents were unusual."

"Still-you must believe me!-they represented the aspects of evil: the many flavors of purulence, so to speak."

Melancthe smiled and shook her head. "I cannot understand these tedious abstractions, and I doubt if the effort would yield any amus.e.m.e.nt, since I am easily bored."

"As a matter of interest, do you know the meaning of the word 'evil'?'"

"It seems to mean what you intend it to mean."

"The word is general. Do you know the difference between, let us say, kindness and cruelty?"

"I have never thought to notice. Why do you ask?"

"Because, for a fact, I have come to study your character."

"Again? For what reason?"

"I am curious to discover whether you are 'good' or 'bad'." Melancthe shrugged. "That is as if I were to ask whether you were a bird or a fish-and then expect an earnest answer."

Shimrod sighed. "Just so. How goes your life?"

"I prefer it to oblivion."

"How do you occupy yourself each day?"

"I watch the sea and the sky; sometimes I wade in the surf and build roads in the sand. At night I study the stars."

"You have no friends?"

"No."

"And what of the future?"

"The future stops at Now."

"As to that, I am not so sure," said Shimrod. "It is at best a half-truth."

"What of that? Half a truth is better than none: do you not agree?"

"Not altogether," said Shimrod. "I am a practical man, I try to control the shape of the 'nows' which lie in the offing, instead of submitting to them as they occur."

Melancthe gave an uninterested shrug. "You are free to do as you like." Leaning back into the cushions, she looked out across the sea.

Shimrod finally spoke. "Well then: are you 'good' or 'bad'?"

"I don't know."

Shimrod became vexed. "Talking with you is like visiting an empty house."

Melancthe considered a moment before responding. "Perhaps," she said, "you are visiting the wrong house. Or perhaps you are the wrong visitor."

"Ha hah!" said Shimrod. "You seem to be telling me that indeed, you are capable of thought."

"I think constantly, day and night."

"What thoughts do you think?"

"You would not understand them."

"Do your thoughts bring you pleasure? Or peace?"

"As always, you ask questions I cannot answer."

"They seem simple enough."

"For you, no doubt. As for me, I was brought naked and empty into the world; it was only required that I imitate humanity, not that I should become human. I do not know what sort of creature I am. This is the subject of my reflections. They are complicated. Since I know no human emotions, I have contrived an entire new compendium, which only I can feel."

"That is very interesting! When do you use these new emotions?"

"I use them continually. Some are heavy, others are light, and are named for clouds. Some are constant; others are fugitive. Sometimes they come to thrill me and I would like to keep them forever-just as I longed to keep the wonderful flowers! But the moods slip away before I can name them, and cherish them in my heart. Sometimes, often, they never come back, no matter how I yearn."

"How do you name these emotions? Tell me!"

Melancthe shook her head. "The names would mean nothing. I have watched insects, wondering how they name their emotions and wondering if perhaps they were like mine."

"I should think not," said Shimrod.

Melancthe spoke on unheeding. "It may be that instead of emotion, I feel sensation only, which I think to be emotion. This is how an insect feels the moods of its life."

"In your new set of emotions, do you have equivalents for 'good' and 'bad'?"

"These are not emotions! You are trying to trick me into talking your language! Very well; I shall answer. I do not know what to think of myself. Since I am not human, I wonder what I am and how my life will go."

Shimrod sat back and reflected. "At one time you served Tamurello: why did you do so?"

"That was the behest built into my brain."

"Now he is pent in a bottle, but still you are asked to serve him."

Melancthe frowned at Shimrod, mouth pursed in disapproval. "Why do you say so?"

"Murgen has informed me."

"And what does he know?"

"Enough to ask stern questions. How do these orders come to you?"